The Killing Joke
Battle on the Bridge Birds' beautiful songs filled the air as the sun rose over Aria Village, a shabby town located in the Forsaken Region. It was early in the morning, as indicated by the rising sun, so most of the town was still asleep in their little homes. Those who were awake waited to leave the house until the sun finally ushered in a new day, calling them to be productive members of society. Upon returning to the Royal Capital from the aforementioned Forsaken Realm, Key had an incident to report to his father, the head of the noble family. While in the Forsaken Realm, Key allowed a peasant (albeit, a Magic Knight peasant) to display magical abilities that potentially rivaled his own. Instead of being able to swiftly deal with him, Key was forced to acknowledge his strength during an epic battle of immense magical power. When his son told him of his battle against the other Magic Knight, Chronoki was displeased and remarked how much dishonor Key had brought to the already-dishonorable House Underwood. In no way did Key tarnish their reputation any further - Chronoki did a fairly good job of handling that himself - but his father's words affected him nonetheless, and he was filled with shame for his failure. Fortunately, Key's transgressions against the Order of the Magic Knights in the past several weeks hadn't yet made word to the Captain of the Violet Orca, as he kept himself relatively busy, so Key was still being considered for Vice Captain of the squad. If he could just become Vice Captain of his Magic Knight's squad, he was sure that would please his prideful father, who was once a Magic Knight himself. The sound of the chirping birds, accompanied by Key's heavy footsteps on the town's bridge, were the only audible sounds in the area. As he walked along the bridge, he was painfully reminded of the filthy village he'd visited weeks before. It would've done him better to have just destroyed the entire village back then, but he didn't get the chance to. The thought of it hadn't even crossed his mind before that Magic Knight from the Crimson Lions showed up to ruin his fun. Now, standing on the edge of the bridge, a creepy smile crept onto his face. A slight breeze blew on his cape as the town started to wake up. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He is so fucking annoying! To think that angel-winged bastard once belonged to nobility, someone would at least hope he retained at least a slight bit of civility. Not that the ebony skinned wanderer cared. One of the slums of the Blacklands had no right to judge. But surely, the joke known as the heaven's above would forgive her insolence just this once. The thought brought a sly smile to her face, which was hidden beneath a mask of bone. Whereas she preferred to don the hood of her cloak to complete the era of anonymity radiating from her person, the sun above this kingdom brought about a warmth she could rarely enjoy. That stupid palace atop the clouds got pretty cold! So she used this chance to feel the sun-kissed what little skin she exposed. A quiet stroll was disturbed by a strange sensation. She hadn't been in this kingdom long enough to recognize the different villages of the Forsaken Realm. And the fact things were wildly different from the Heart Kingdom didn't help her cause. But she'd become cultured enough to know the patterns of magic that corrupted this society. Whereas Heart Kingdom focused on money and status, this kingdom cared more about innate talent. A foolish desire to justify's one belief in fate by shouting that the gods have chosen them. The sages of Heart Kingdom discovered long ago that only the strongest survived. And that one's heart-shaped their future. Still, it was quite to feel this power so far from the capital. That was actually the main reason she chose this particular village to complete her task. However a strange thought came to mind. Why collect so many test subjects when one really strong one would suffice? Quality over quantity, right? Plus, she nothing helped her unwind better than fighting till the brink of death after dealing with that bumbling idiot. She only hoped she'd possess enough restraint to refrain from killing this poor poor summer child. The quiet rooster stepped into Key's footprints, using their indentation to muffle her own sound. A fun game that she'd witnessed kittens play. Her hand reached into her cloak and removed a long silver knife about the size of her arm. Her eyes scanned his person from head to toe. A noble going by this amount of magic. And the ridiculous cloth he wore on his shoulder meant he served the Magic Knights. Most mages, especially those with innate magical ability, were able to sense mana at varying levels. Mages with an affinity for wind magic, as Key understood it, were able to sense mana better than any other mage. Naturally, mages whose magic operated on sensing their target's magic were also able to sense mana with relative ease. While Key didn't fit in either of these categories, he was born into a family with an irrefutably large amount of mana, thus rendering him able to sense mana to a degree. Due to the fact that it functions by sensing and utilizing mana in its vicinity, the Circlet of Invisibility that he wore upon his head also granted him additional mana-sensing capabilities. Whenever it charged the magic crystals that decorated it, the Circlet passively alerted Key of any nearby mana sources for it to draw energy from, allowing him to know of any incoming mana. This made sneaking up on Key virtually impossible. The chilling smile donned by Key bounced as his left eye began to twitch, moving the lightning-shaped scar that extended across the left side of his face. The wind continued to blow on his outfit, granting him a sinister presence before he entered the town. However, despite being too far from the village to execute his plan, he didn't take any steps forward. Without turning around to see who was approaching, he opened his mouth to address them. "I should kill you right here for trying to sneak up on me like this," he said in his scratchy voice, his eye twitching slightly. "But I sense a high amount of magic from you. Doing so would be a waste," he admitted. Just from his voice, Key's stalker knew that this was another run of the mill noble. The idea that he could just strike her down like some foolish god almost broke her naturally silent aura. Instead, the masked girl stopped and tilted her head. This man was definitely a noble though, as much as she hated his obnoxious aura. Any normal mage would be wise to run off into the nearby woods, grabbing their family and evacuating to the nearest country. But this witch was far from the normal mage. "You're a fucking cocky one aren't you?" The woman said from beneath her mask. Her low voice only audible to the man she addressed. She spoke with a certain venomous tongue hidden beneath a smooth accent. Her words flowed together, one after another, to a natural rhythm. "But thanks for the concern." She allowed silence to fill between the two before speaking once more. "Want to tell me what nobility is doing out in these parts?" The lofty, black boots on Key's feet made noise on the bridge as he turned around to face the assailant. After inspecting the woman, his smile immediately faltered and he furrowed his eyebrows to form an unimpressed expression. Even though her voice was intriguing - sexy, even - her appearance didn't seem to interest Key in the slightest. Her face was covered by an unsightly bone mask, but he didn't recognize her voice, so he doubted he'd be able to recognize this woman anyway. Her hair was brown and unkept. The clothes on her slim figure weren't elegant or flashy, so he knew she couldn't have hailed from a noble family. Everything about her reeked of peasantry, yet Key still felt strong mana emanating from her all the same. Key's eyes dropped to the knife in the woman's hand. Then, he looked back up at her skull mask and smiled again. His grin extended from ear to ear. "Are you supposed to be this village's first defense?" Key assumed, essentially revealing that he possesses ill intentions towards the town. While he beamed at the woman, his left eye twitched and he was reminded of his father's recent scolding. If Key wanted to go home with any sense of honor, he would carry out his family's will and destroy Aria Village. And he wasn't going to be deterred by another uppity peasant, either. "Perhaps you should leave before your village is destroyed. Because you have note-worthy mana, I'm willing to spare your life if you turn around now," he threatened. All the while, Key's crazy smile still lingered on his face, indicating towards his utter lack of mental stability and sense of rationality. Key would be able to feel this woman rolling her eyes. As opposed to the former slum rat, Key was a man of upstanding culture. The way he dressed and spoke radiated education and inherent unfairness that plagued this world. And here he was about to eradicate this innocent village?! Maybe if the Rooster cared she would have that sentiment in her heart. But his intentions didn't bother her at all. And besides, Key just revealed a crucial step in obtaining what she wanted. And so, she decided to feed into the caricature she had unknowingly played by getting dressed this morning. "First and last." She said with a nobility-mocking confidence. "Once again, here you are acting all fucking high and mighty!" She laughed. Her once silent voice boomed into a full-on roar. "I can feel you shaking in your boots." Rooster started towards Key with a casual walk. Almost ignoring his noble presence, she was a woman who had no problem approaching God. But that didn't mean she was without caution, for her body remained ready to move just in case. This wouldn't be an easy task. And she didn't prefer it any other way. As soon as the attacker began inching closer, Key's grimoire sprung out of its leather carrier and started floating in front of him. "The only one shaking here is you," he muttered to himself. On his mark, the floating book began to flip its many pages as it shone its purple light on his twisted face. Key had learned over the course of the past few weeks not to underestimate his opponents, even if they were puny peasants unloved by mana and fate. He was determined not to give this woman the opportunity to display magic that was comparable to his. He wouldn't allow that a second time. "Let me help you with that," he finished. Suddenly, two purple arrows (anchored to the ground by strings) were propelled out of the bridge directly behind the woman's feet. Since they darted out of the ground so quickly, and were located behind the target, Key's ash spell was able to catch victims off guard to impale them in their heels, effectively wounding them and rendering them unable to move their feet. "Ash Restraining Magic: Rigged Styx Submergence," he said, announcing the name of his ash arrow spell. However magic was magic. And such, she could feel the accumulating mana taking form behind her. A spell at this distance? The fact that he could reach a target so far from him proved her suspicions. And worst, meant that she wouldn't be able to remain stationary during this little scuffle. Immediately, she gathered mana at the bottom of her foot and improved her mana skin so that it formed a set of magical boots. Allowing the ashen blades to clash against them with minimal damage. She held up her hand and with a slight breathe, a giant straw doll was brought to life from her own magical power. The size of a man, it possessed the traits of a living scarecrow with a scythe within its grasp. This was her coveted Doll Magic. "Kill that little fucker." She ordered. The doll launched itself towards Key, its body brought to life with her own mana. It began to swing its scythe as if removing weeds when it approached Key, aiming for a cut at a non-vital location. This involved a downward slash followed by a horizontal cut from a twist of its body. Meanwhile, she started to dash towards Key left flank. That woman's display only made Key's wild grin grow wider. He had never met anyone with doll magic before and was interested in the sinister implications it may have brought. His grimoire quickly flipped through its numerous pages again before landing on one of his first attack spells. He extended only his right arm out to the doll before calling out, "Ash Magic: Phlegethon Wave!" Suddenly, the space in front of Key rumbled before being covered by a large mass of purple ashes that were summoned from the bridge's surface. Just as quickly as they were created, the ashes rose so high that Key had to tilt his head just to see its peak. Then, as the name of the spell suggested, the ashes formed a giant purple wave that covered the complete width of the narrow bridge, with the intent of wiping the woman and her scarecrow over the edge. The woman was no fool. And the size of this wave meant trouble if she would even try to stand against it. But it also presented an opportunity. She jumped off the bridge and held onto the edge with only her hand. As the wave of ash approached, she used it as a diversion to create a small doll which she tossed onto a nearby beam. Once his spell settled, the woman quickly tossed herself back onto the bridge, throwing her knife at the man's side with ferocious strength. It was meant to only hurt rather than actually maim for she'd hope to use its suddenness as a surprise. The Magic Knight's smile uncurled into a questioning frown. With little effort, he moved out of the knife's path by simply leaning to the right. It's not like it was a very effective surprise attack - he'd watched her avoid his spell and make it back onto the bridge. Whoever Aria Village's first line of defense was, maybe Key had given her more credit than she deserved. It was going to take more than a knife to throw a First Class Senior Magic Knight off guard, after all. Unfortunately, she may have had more in store for him than he realized. "If you're willing to try something that stupid..." he said with his chilling, scratchy voice. The pages in his grimoire searched for an appropriate spell in the meantime. "Perhaps you're as crazy as I am!" he hollered, maniacally throwing his arms up in the sky like a madman. She watched her knife land quite some distance away. Which was okay, for she had another strapped to her leg. She pulled it from her sheathe and started towards the ash magician once more. This time, creating two more scarecrow dolls at each side. They ran at Key, once against swinging their scythes in a strange dance of three. A downward slash complimented by a horizontal cut. Which was followed with an upward slice. It moved as rag dolls would, their body twisting around like a razor filled tornado. The second doll, however, dashed after the first and leapt off its body; using its erratic movement to mask its purpose. The doll launched itself over Key so that it landed with its back against the village. The doll bent over and picked up the knife with its weird hands. The woman loved that this man was crazy. Arrogance and insanity often went hand and hand down the path to destruction. She chose to remain a safe distance, keeping her senses of the surrounding mana. This man could cast magic from a remote distance; taking away his opponent's ability to lower their guard. Meanwhile, the little shadow figure climbed beneath the bridge to the other side. Now that the masked woman appeared to be getting pretty serious, Key was going to have to as well. As much as he hated acknowledging a peasant's strength, he couldn't deny how much effort he was going to have to exert to win this battle. It wasn't going to be easy, but it would be done. He snapped his head back down to focus on the incoming doll while the other one was stationed behind him. He had a few spells that would've been useful in taking down just one target, but he was surrounded. The masked woman and one scarecrow were in front of him. Plus, there was a scarecrow with a knife behind him. With little options present, his grimoire flipped to the spell that could effectively handle all three targets. Without flinching, Key let out a cackle and called out the name of that spell. "Ash Magic: Dīs Orcus!" he cried. On his command, a jet of purple ash sprouted out of the bridge's surface and flung into the air. Then another quick jet of purple ash sprung out of the bridge and shot inches past the woman's masked face. Then, another jet of ash came out of the ground to knock the knife out of the hand of the doll behind Key. This pattern only continued for a couple seconds before, suddenly, the bridge was ejecting jets of ash like crazy. At first, dozens - then hundreds - of ash spikes shot out of the weak bridge and into the air. The only area of the bridge that Key's spell didn't reach was meters away, on the exact opposite side of the bridge. This was an extremely destructive spell cast with the intent of ripping both the woman and her scarecrows to shreds with an assault of ash. And thus the perfect opportunity had made itself clear. For the type of magic the man cast would create the opening she needed. As the man would be facing forward, the scarecrow behind him used its last seconds of life to throw the dagger it retrieved at considerable speed. The jets of ash would cover the knife soaring across the bridge and towards the man's hip. Meanwhile, the woman didn't move from the blast unless she felt the surge of magic bubbling from beneath. She carefully weaved through the jets, of course suffering from a searing gash on her leg. Regardless, she remained calm as she danced across the bridge, heading away from the madman. Somehow, the scarecrow managed to throw the small dagger with enough accuracy and power to bypass the countless ash jets that separated it from Key. The knife grazed Key's hip, though admittedly, the blade was mostly blocked by his cape. Nonetheless, a couple drops of blood dripped down Key's leg, staining his undergarment. He let out a shriek and flexed his arms. He was visibly upset, but not at the fact that he'd been cut. He was mad that he allowed it to happen. Even so, the virtual wall of ash he'd created throughout the bridge had dissipated as the jets of ash stopped rising from its surface. "You piss me off, you bitch!" he howled loudly, once the area was clear. He narrowed his purple eyes on her and the left one twitched a bit. His grimoire frantically flipped through its pages again as he prepared for his next ash attack. At this point, citizens of the village began to leave their homes for the day. A few of them must've overheard the conflict taking place on their bridge, because a couple of men and women came to check it out. A few of them gawked at the battle between the Violet Orca Magic Knight and the wretched woman, assuming that Key was there to defend them from her. A few of them rooted for him, shouting out things like, "go Mr. Magic Knight!" and "Clover Kingdom's finest!" Little did they know, after the battle was over, he still had every intention of destroying their town. Ironic. But the woman had no time to waste with foolish sides. Instead, she started to take several steps back. Her face turning into a grin from beneath the mask. The blood seeping from her leg drenched her cloak. However, taking that attack was worth it for she'd finally moved her plan to the next stage. Now she just needed to move him elsewhere. "Aw, looks who's the guardian of this village now!" She teased venomously. Her feet finally touching the earth. "See, that wasn't so fucking hard right?" In the distance, the small doll managed to climb from the cliff and started to crawl forward. She needed just a tad bit more time. She made sure to keep its movement small as to keep it from gathering attention. Much to his dismay, the masked woman was right. The townspeople seemed to think Key was some sort of guardian, and that just simply wasn't the case. He'd show them, as well as his adversary, that he didn't go there to act as a guardian to anyone but himself. As a true testament of his instability, the crazed look in Key's eye subsided as he regained his composure. Brushing some dirt off his elegant, white shirt, he turned on his heels to face the village. His grimoire floated around his body to claim its spot in front of him as he calmly made his way to the village. "Filthy peasant," he mumbled. If the weird doll magic lady wanted to retreat, he wasn't going to stop her. All he initially came for was the village, anyway. Perhaps he could track her down and kill her after he was done there. Villagers clapped and cheered him on as they watched him walk away from the bridge, assuming he'd defeated the attacker. He resisted the urge to shoot them nasty glances on his way towards civilization. He'd have his time to antagonize them once he made it inside. She watched the man walk away with a slight grin behind her mask. As crazy as he was, the man was a fool to just abandon battle. To let his enemy retreat, especially after causing harm to his body. But this was the sin of confidence. The doll made it to where the blood fell from his leg and laid atop it. She approached it and picked up the doll, gathering magic power against the soaked blood. The woman felt the curse forming from within as the doll began to radiate an ominous aura. But rather than chase the man for the second round, she decided to wait until the spell was completed. Plus, why not let the little psychopath have his fun? Painting the Town Purple Aria Village was situated on a massive boulder with a single crack running down its middle. The structural integrity of the town already wasn't too sturdy in the first place, so Key figured it wouldn't take much to tear the village to the ground. If he was especially crafty, perhaps he could even use the town's flawed foundation to his advantage by destroying the boulder underneath them. He glanced around, looking at the shabby buildings that surrounded him. Everywhere he looked, all he saw was filth. "Good job, Mr. Magic Knight!" cried a peasant dressed in grey, patched-up clothing. "Three cheers for the Magic Knight!" yelled another. He wore a dusty, old suit and a top-hat. Suddenly, the town erupted in applause for Key Underwood, the Violet Orca Magic Knight. As he walked down the sidewalk, his long, grey cape flowed subtly in the breeze. Even though he tried to keep his composure then, he couldn't control the incessant twitching of his left eye while he was so disgusted. How could those so unloved by mana be so happy? he thought. He kept his eyes forward, not acknowledging a single one of his supporters as they welcomed him. Don't applaud me, peasants. I'm here to purge you of your filth. The noble House Underwood was known for many things, none of which had earned the family a particularly good reputation throughout the Clover Kingdom. Among those things were: the family's especially erratic behavior; their detestation for lower-class mages; their general affinity for ash magic; and, most notably, their use of curse magic. Curse magic, a rather infamous branch of magic, was synonymous with bad tidings, just like the Underwood family. Most of the members of the House Underwood were able to combine their ash magic with curses, allowing them to cause discord wherever they went. Key, the son of the family's head, was rumored to be able to use curse magic with even more skill than his father. His grimoire continued to float in front of him, ready to be used by the ash mage. Not a single citizen of the village caught wind of Key's ill intentions until it was too late. By then, he was already stretching his arms out in front of him. As per the activation process, his grimoire started to glow, amassing mana around him. Now suspicious of the outsider, the town got quiet all of a sudden, until the only voice that was heard was Key's. "Ash Curse Magic: Seph’s Inferno!" he hollered wickedly. The mana around him manifested into a dozen pomegranate-shaped ash bullets that orbited his body. Then, as soon as they were summoned, the purple projectiles were propelled in every direction, pelting a plethora of people's properties. Homes and businesses were hit by the ash bullets. Under normal circumstances, the ashes would have just affected the pathetic establishments by causing them to crack or break after Key hit them a few times. However, when the bullets reached the walls of the homes and businesses, the ashes caused them to ignite and be consumed by purple flames. Citizens of the town fled in every direction, screaming and panicking through the streets as they organized an exodus towards the bridge. Nobody attempted to gather their belongings; everyone just fled. Key let out vicious laughter as more cursed ash bullets appeared at his side, firing off all around him. The purple flames that covered each building spread quickly through the small town, devouring more precious keepsakes and village memories as the fire grew. As the destruction rained around the cackling Magic Knight, he was made aware of a presence behind him. He turned around, stopping the ash bullets from forming around him, and spotted a lowly peasant trying to cast wind magic on his purple flames. The man was older than Key, but not by much. Probably in his late twenties. He wore raggedy clothing, but his wind magic was substantial enough. His effort was valiant, trying to save his village like that, but it was in vain. For the nature of Key's cursed ashes wouldn't allow them to be canceled out by the mage's wind. Instead, the purple flames only grew to be more volatile, using the mage's wind magic as fuel for the fire. Much to the struggling peasant's disappointment, the Magic Knight's curse seemed to cause the opposite effect he was hoping for. This was the power of Key Underwood's curse magic. The older man turned to Key with distressed eyes. "How could you do this to us?" he asked pitifully. Key stopped laughing for a moment to answer his question, though he still did so with a mocking smile. "You think I give a shit about you?!" he shouted, throwing his hands back into the air to let another high-pitched laugh into the air. Before the villager could respond, the fire quickly snaked off of the building he was trying to extinguish and proceeded to add him to the flames. His pained screams accompanied the roar fo the fire that was starting to take over the entire area. All Key did was laugh as he watched the lousy peasant die an agonizing death - the death he felt all peasants deserved. The man had let his former prey live, a foolish mistake one could make only if they claimed to a false sense of power. He'd given her enough time to get everything ready, so much so, that the fact she drew blood during their last exchange was timed perfectly. And now, the woman slowly hovered towards the doll which transformed into an effigy of the brown psychopath. She picked it up with a sly smile. "Doll Curse Magic: Your Image." The doll glowed a bright purple and emitted a slight hum before returning back to normal. Things were getting interesting for sure. The woman moved through the flames without the slightest hinderance. She seemed unfazed by the heretical heat. The blasphemous power which raged throughout the town. Her skeletal mask making her the reaper that came for their souls. She stepped over burning flesh and ignored the screams of the tormented. She retrieved a blanket and wrapped it around the ebony doll in her hand. Her mindset only on the target of today's mission. And there he was. Maddening laughter over the booming cackles of his fire. She found him sickening. There were countless people who claimed their hearts to their philosophy who acted as he. But she joined for the freedom to pursue her magic. Senseless deaths meant the wast of proper test subjects. She stared at the man before approaching him. However, her movement was filled with an unseen confidence. As she cradled the doll wrapped in a blanket, as if her child, she tapped the end of her knife against her knee. Closer. Step by step. She approached Key with an overwhelming presence. But if the psychopath tried to move, he would find himself frozen. As if wrapped in a giant cloth. "You're coming with me."